I Get Paid to Exist

 It’s pretty amazing how one picture can take you there. Seeing a picture of my pony, Ringo brought back so many memories that I never realized I was still holding onto. He represents so many things in my life currently at 41 years old, and how could that be? My dad bought Ringo for me when I was eight years old. He taught me how to put a bridle on a pony, to put a saddle on a pony, to brush a pony, to take care of a pony’s hooves, and a pony was fed and happy. Ringo represented so much for me. He was my happiness. He was a way to bond with my dad because I didn’t know how and I was always afraid of him, unless we were talking about the pony or the dogs. I loved how my dad would take the time to show me the right way to do things with Ringo, and to always be good with him. He showed me how to communicate with Ringo, and when I made a mistake with that pony, my dad would also show me why that was wrong, but he was never mean, and I never got punished. He only taught me the right way...

 I am studying a concept that boggles my mind, and simultaneously calls to my soul. As a woman, as a human being on planet Earth, it is my birthright to be paid for my existence. I, like so many others, have been taught that in order to acquire money, we must work hard. Another belief is money isn’t free. And it has to be earned. I am ready to deeply explore my personal guidelines and beliefs surrounding money. In the last three years, I have been studying energy, the body & spiritualism. I feel like everything is pointing to one simple fact: I am worthy. Over the last few weeks I have been giving less fucks. Literally dropping fucks at peoples feet like “I don’t care.” For the longest time I feared being all alone IF I ever spoke my truth. If I ever so behaved in any way other than a GOOD GIRL. The Universe is so brilliant in taking me into the dark night of the soul just three years ago. And now I feel in my heart, etched in my DNA & carved into my bones that I am never t...